It's terribly unfair that a dying man should be saddled with all the travails and irritants of a living man into the bargain, but no matter. I have conquered. The idea came to me quite suddenly, and I thought ... well, why not? I've got nothing but books and time, and I've been positively pining for some sort of project or other to sink my teeth into. Besides which, frankly, I'm bored. And lonely. I'd like to ... share something, give something. Do something. So I did this. And, if anybody likes it, I may do more. Let me know, won't you?
I'm calling it One Last Story. It may be, you know - they all are, until they're not. I've decided to start with my personal favorite: “The Outsider,” by Howard Phillips Lovecraft. May it bother you, as it has bothered me.
P.S. - I taught myself to play the candelabrum! You'd be amazed at what can be done with a little ingenuity and a pair of silver teaspoons!
Read it for yourself: The Outsider, by H.P. Lovecraft